The J&P Collection
by Voyfan2
Summary: A place for my short stories and drabbles about Tom and Kate. Will be updated as my muse allows. New story: "Lost in Translation."
1. Story: Don't Ask

It was late, and she considered going to his quarters. But she decided not to wake him; he would need the rest.

He surprised her though; she found him sprawled across her bed.

Neither of them spoke as she undressed and she went to him … they made love fiercely, desperately aware that this could be the last time.

Later, as they held each other, he whispered, "Will it work?"

"Yes." It had to work because she couldn't live with the alternative. She hadn't told him … she couldn't tell him … that he was one of those who would be lost if this journey of the damned continued.

"I don't know if I could be so self-sacrificing," she continued, mostly to dispel the previous thought..

"Well, in a sense, this admiral is you, or at least a version of you, so I'd say the answer is yes."

She snorted at that as he sat up.

"Kate, I'll get us through, I promise," he said.

She swallowed and laid a hand on his arm. "I know you will, Tom. That's the only thing I can count on."

He smiled slightly, gathering his courage as he watched the star shadows play across her face.

He took her hand. "Kate, when we get out of this, will you ..."

"_Oh God, not that … not now !" _She shot up and placed two fingers over his mouth.

"I love you, but don't ask that … not tonight."

He jumped a bit, letting go of her hand, and her heart contracted at the confusion and rejection she saw in his face.

She cupped his jaw, forcing him to look at her. _I can't … I won't … lose another man that I've promised to marry,"_ she thought, silently willing him to understand.

"It's not you, I swear. I'm being irrational, but if I answer the way I want to ... I'm afraid we'll jinx things."

She slid her hand down his jaw until only the touch of her fingertips remained. "If you still feel the same, ask me when we are out of this… when we can see Earth. Then I'll know we have a future."

Finally, he nodded. "And what makes you think I won't feel the same way in the morning, or when we get home?"

She raised an eyebrow. "You'd better not change your mind, Mister," she teased as she pulled him down. "I'd hate to cancel the homecoming celebration I had planned for us."

He gave her a quick kiss. "Funny, I was planning a special homecoming for us, too."

"Well then, we'll just have to combine them," she murmured.

And just before she fell asleep, she sent up a silent plea to the universe that they be allowed to do just that.


	2. Story: Winter

She stood at her mother's front window, arms crossed over her chest to ward off the chill.

The snow had stopped, but the sky was still a leaden gray; there would be no painting-quality sunset this evening. Instead, as far as she could see, the world was still … and bleak.

Tom clomped in, whistling, from his trip to the woodpile. She heard the logs bump onto the hearth and the rustle of his coat. He slipped up behind her and nuzzled her neck, making her jump.

"Damn! You're an icicle!" she exclaimed. He just laughed and pulled her into his arms.

"You all right? I saw you at the window. You seemed sad."

"I'm fine," she assured him. "It's just that I tend to get melancholy in the early evening, especially in winter. It's worse when I'm alone."

"You're not alone now; we're home," he whispered, and she shivered at the words and the memories they evoked.

But for the first time in many years … she believed it.


	3. Story: And a Little Child

She looked drawn, Tom noted as he and Miral slipped into the room. Then again, she was seriously injured in that shuttle crash. There _are_ some things that willpower can't overcome.

"Hey, there," he said as he kissed her cheek. "I promised Miral she could see Aunt

Kathryn for a few minutes."

Her smile couldn't quite hide the pain. "I am delighted to see both of you. Come on up

here, Pumpkin," she told Miral as she patted a spot next to her on the bed. "Gently, now,"

Tom reminded his daughter as he lifted her up. Kathryn just gave him a mock glare.

"I'm going to leave you two to visit for a little bit," he said.

"Checking up on me, Thomas?" she asked, her voice a bit more raspy than usual.

"Of course," he said lightly.

He went into the kitchen to talk to the Doctor, who had declared himself a house guest after

Kathryn left the hospital against medical advice. She hadn't objected.

"How is she?"

"Progressing, though she's still in a great deal of pain. She's not sleeping much; partly

pain, partly nightmares, It's a good thing that I don't require sleep."

"I'm not surprised by the nightmares. That was supposed to be a routine diplomatic

mission. No one expected them to be shot out of the sky by a group of fanatics."

"No," he agreed. "Fortunately, she's in no position to refuse her counselor's visits." He paused and looked back toward her room. "She's been writing messages to the families of the staff members she lost."

Tom nodded solemnly. There would be several; out of eight people, only she and her two senior aides survived. He stole a glance at the chronometer. "I should go get Miral," he said apologetically. "It's about time for her nap, and she's going to get cranky."

"Hey, Miral ..." the rest of the sentence died on his lips. He chuckled, then leaned out and quietly beckoned the Doc over. "Think I'll be staying," he whispered.

Miral was curled up in Kathryn's arms, her head resting on her godmother's shoulder.

Kathryn's cheek was resting on Miral's head … and both were sound asleep.

"That," the Doctor whispered, "may be the best medicine of all."


	4. Story: Where Were We?

The ship had come out of nowhere.

Seems those Borg decided that the third moon of the Egadas system was a good place to hide, too.

Tom's piloting let me get a good shot at it. It exploded nicely, but not before two drones managed to transport aboard.

I killed one, but the other quickly adapted to our phaser frequency. In desperation, Tom grabbed a compression rifle and fired … it was on stun, but that was just enough to knock the drone onto the transporter pad. A quick command and it was beamed into space, followed by the body of its companion.

"Hold still," Tom commanded as he quickly scanned me with a medical tricorder.

"I'm fine."

"I just want to be sure," he said. Satisfied, he grinned at me. I grinned back, and motioned for the tricorder. "Let's make sure you're OK, too".

The preventive measures done, we collapse into each others arms.

"That was not the kind of assimilation I had in mind," I say into his chest, and I can feel him shake with laughter. "Definitely not," he said as he kissed the top of my head.

"Tell you what," I say leaning back to look at him, "let's leave the shields up and run full sensor sweeps. Then perhaps we can get on with … parking."

He grins, but I see a bit of doubt. "Not that I don't want to … but I think we may miss our check-in."

"I think we can use this to our advantage," I say lightly. "I suspect that ship was alone, but we should lay low for a while, just in case. Besides, we get so little time together: I won't let those bastards interrupt that." I raise an eyebrow. "So where were we?"

He leans in, and just before he kisses me, whispers, "Right about here."


	5. Story: Advice

_Just a little stand-alone bit of mischief that came to my muse ..._

xxx

"Tuvok, I could use your advice," Chakotay said.

Tuvok raised an eyebrow at the unusual request. "How can I assist you, Commander?"

"I believe that the Captain and Tom Paris are breaching protocol," he said.

"Have you taken this up with the Captain?" Tuvok asked. Chakotay just gave him a look.

"I don't think she'll take it well," he admitted. "I could use some advice on how to approach this."

Tuvok lifted an eyebrow. "Very well. What sort of breach are we speaking of?" Not that he couldn't guess.

"From all appearances, Paris has moved into the Captain's quarters."

"From all appearances, Commander, Mr. Paris is using his quarters on Deck 4."

"But he's spent the night in the Captain's quarters for the past 2½ months," Chakotay blurted.

Tuvok raised both eyebrows. "If you are using the ship's computer to check on Mr. Paris' whereabouts on a nightly basis, I _must_ remind you _that_ is a breach of protocol."

Chakotay's face darkened, but Tuvok continued. "I will also remind you that the incident with the Fiu'ya took place three months ago. You are aware that the Captain and Mr. Paris were subjected to mental trauma during their captivity."

"Yes, but ..."

"And you certainly are aware that the Doctor has been unable to completely remove the Fiu'ya 'experiments.' While they are much improved, it is plausible that the Captain and Mr. Paris still have nightmares."

Chakotay grimaced. He remembered all too well. Even under sedation, Kathryn and Paris couldn't shake the terrors implanted in their minds. The only way they could sleep peacefully was to share a biobed. At that point, he'd stopped his early morning check-ins; seeing those two wrapped around each other was more than he could take.

"It is unfortunate that we don't have a counselor on board," Tuvok continued. "That would facilitate their recovery."

"I know, I've encouraged her to talk to me, but she won't."

_And there is the truth of the matter, _Tuvok thought. _"She's not seeking comfort from you."_

"Perhaps she is uncomfortable placing that burden on you," Tuvok offered. "And in some ways, Mr. Paris may have the better understanding of her situation."

Chakotay was about to reply, but Tuvok continued. "Frankly, Commander, the Captain and Mr. Paris both need adequate rest. The safety of the ship and crew depend on it. If sleeping in the same quarters brings them comfort right now, then my advice is that we should let them … as humans say … work things out."

Realizing he'd get no help from Tuvok, Chakotay took his leave. Tuvok made sure the Commander was out of sight before he allowed himself a small smile.

Chakotay's unspoken accusation was correct, even if his timing was off. The Captain and Mr. Paris had been "sharing quarters" for nearly a year before the Fiu'ya incident. They'd been discreet, but his bond with the Captain allowed him to sense the strong emotional connection.

It was possible that their recovery still hinged on remaining close at night. On the other hand, the Captain certainly wasn't one to pass up an opportunity: Under the circumstances, Starfleet would find it difficult to sanction her for having a "roommate," crew gossip aside.

Personally, he sensed that the relationship was physically and emotionally good for both of them. And a happy captain and pilot could only be beneficial to the ship.

In fact, he mused, perhaps there was a way to allow them to continue their "recovery" indefinitely. He smiled again: A word with the Doctor might be in order.


	6. Story: Christmas Tradition

_AN: Just a bit of fluff for the holidays. For all those who celebrate, enjoy!_

Tom's mouth had just slid over Kathryn's … soft and sweet with the beginnings of a very satisfying kiss … when they both started at the sound of someone impatiently clearing his throat.

She saw the "Oh, hell!" look in Tom's eyes before he spun to face the owner of the voice.

"Paris, can't you be a bit more ..." Chakotay began, only to stop in surprise when he realized exactly _who_ Tom was kissing.

"Captain?" he managed.

"The Captain was just indulging me in an ancient Christmas tradition," Tom said smoothly.

The look on Chakotay's face telegraphed that he didn't buy it.

"Mistletoe, Chakotay," Kathryn said, pointing above her head to the sprig that someone — probably Tom — had attached to the ceiling. She'd give him the benefit of the doubt … it was hard to spot in the darkened room.

"I know the Academy celebrates Christmas," she continued. "I suspect that you've met a pretty cadet under the mistletoe once or twice, eh?" she said, oh-so-flirtatiously.

Even in the dim light, she could see the blush creeping up her first officer's cheeks. "Anyway, thank you for the refresher on tradition, Mr. Paris," she said as she walked toward the door, her hips swaying just a bit more than necessary. "See you at the party tomorrow, Commander," she added.

After she left, Chakotay turned back to Tom. "Not terribly respectful to B'Elanna, is it?"

Tom shrugged. "I'm a free agent. She broke up with me," he said. _"And from what I've heard," he thought, "she turned you down flat." _"Happy Christmas, Commander," he said with a nod as he walked out the door.

xxx

Tom had barely walked into his quarters when he was greeted with a punch in the arm.

"Ow!" he said, then called for the lights. Kathryn was standing there, hands on hips, with a glare that signaled his impending doom.

"You brat! Are you trying to get us busted?"

"Hey, how was I supposed to know that he'd drop into the Mess Hall at 0100?" he protested.

"I don't think he bought our explanation," Kathryn said.

"He can't prove anything; there _i__s_ mistletoe up there," Tom replied. "And I loved your line about the pretty cadets." Kathryn just chuckled as he pulled her into his arms.

"Actually," he whispered, "I'm annoyed that he showed up. He interrupted the beginning of a _very_ good kiss."

"Well, I should hope," she teased back. "Though I'm pretty sure you can live up to that beginning."

"Oh, I definitely can," he whispered. "In fact I have a very special celebration planned for our first Christmas together," he added just before his lips found hers ...

And for all, it was a _very_ good night …


	7. Elevator Pitch

_AN: Not a regular J/P piece — probably comes from reading too many stories about 'Picard.' _

_So, what if a member of the Janeway-Paris clan ran into a certain retired admiral during his visit to Starfleet Headquarters? If you've read my story 'Search & Rescue,' some references will make more sense. The year: 2399 (about eight years before the events of the story.)_

xxx

Miral couldn't fathom why Admiral Picard was frowning at her.

Actually, she'd never expected to see Jean-Luc Picard today, or any other day. And certainly not at the turbolift bank as she mentally prepared for her upcoming meeting.

She tried to hide her surprise, but he noticed and pleasantly asked if the Admiralty Offices were still on the 80th floor.

She pleasantly confirmed that as they stepped on the lift, but when he noticed they were going to the same floor, things got … frosty.

Maybe it was just part of the Admiral Act, as she called it. Grandpa certainly made a career of scaring subordinates. Funny how it never worked on her. …. and maybe she'd have time to stop at his office later to say hello …

"Ensign," Picard's voice cut in, "I appreciate the thought, but I do not require an escort."

"_What?" _ She turned and looked at him … he was certainly dignified … somewhat imposing … but underneath that, she sensed an aura of sorrow and regret. She'd seen this before — it tended to slip out in her mother's unguarded moments. _"What brings him here?"_ she wondered. _"Is it because of that interview he gave?"_

"Of course not, sir," she said diplomatically. "I have a meeting with Admiral Teixeira."

Picard seemed surprised. "My mistake," he said gravely, then looked at her more closely. "Teixeira? You're with the Corps of Engineers, then?"

"Yes, sir. Special Projects Team."

He raised an eyebrow. "That's quite an accomplishment, Ensign …?"

"Paris, sir. Miral Paris."

Light dawned, as if her family name answered all his questions. Well, maybe it did.

"I assume then that you are _very_ familiar with the Admiralty Offices," he said, and she noticed the twinkle in his eye.

"Some of them, sir," she said, offering a smile.

"I'm sure your family must be very proud."

This time she saw a moment of wistfulness … not for her, she suspected. Maybe she reminded him of someone.

"I hope so sir. I have a lot to live up to."

"I don't think you'll have any problems with that, Ensign," he said.

They finished the ride in silence. When the door opened, he left without a word; she waved her access badge at the security officer as she stepped out.

She was about to enter the Engineering section when he called to her. "Ensign ..."

"Yes sir?" Her cushion of time was evaporating.

"Please give my regards to your stepmother; we haven't spoken in some time. I trust she is well."

Miral bit down a flash of annoyance. He wasn't the first to make that assumption … then again, how do you explain a complicated family? And how to explain her legal and emotional ties to the only mother she'd ever known?

She thought to correct him but gave herself a mental shake. _"Get over yourself, Paris; Ensigns don't correct admirals. And the man obviously has bigger problems."_

So, she gave Picard her best smile. "Admiral Janeway is quite well, sir. I'll certainly pass on your regards."


	8. You'll Be OK

_We'll give the credit for this one to CaptainLyssa. She wanted the scene from Tom's mention in "A Thorny Situation" that B'Elanna had turned down his marriage proposal. Well, to be honest, my muse couldn't quite come up with THAT scene. However it happily conjured a J/P scene in which KJ offers a little advice to the lovelorn. So, Lyssa, it's your turn ;)_

_ooo_

_As usual, the characters don't belong to me. I just enjoy some AU time with them. I certainly make no money from this._

Kathryn wandered into the Mess Hall, more for the change of scenery than anything else. It had been quite a day … despite the drama, the Antarian Rally had been a lot of fun. It was just too bad that the Delta Flyer didn't win.

As she replicated a cup of coffee, she noticed a solitary figure sitting in the corner, staring at the stars streaking by.

"Tom?" she called. He looked over and gave her a half-smile. Something wasn't right. And while she didn't like to intrude on her crew … this was _Tom_.

"Are you all right?" she asked, stepping closer.

He didn't answer. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude. I'll see you in the ..."

He seemed to shake himself. "No, no," he said quickly and motioned toward a seat. "Please sit, Captain. Maybe I shouldn't be alone."

Now she was alarmed. "What's happened? Is this about the race?"

"No, not exactly," he said. He was quiet for another moment. "I asked B'Elanna to marry me."

Kathryn hadn't expected the gut check this news delivered, but she managed not to react. "And ..."

"And she said no."

Something began to flutter in her stomach, but again, she held herself in check. "I hadn't realized that things were that serious."

"Maybe I'm the only one who thought that," he said resignedly. "She said she joined the race to help improve our relationship. Hell, I wasn't aware anything was wrong with it … at least nothing we couldn't fix."

She bit back a retort. Was he the only one who didn't notice how often they fought?

"Anyway, I told her that she meant everything to me, and proposed. She said no, that she'd been planning to break up. I guess the race didn't improve things."

"I am sorry," she said sincerely. "That's a rough way to find out."

He leaned back in his chair, lost in thought for a moment. "So what do you do when you're life's been pulled out from under you?" he finally asked. "When you find out that you've lost the person you want to spend your life with?"

She took a sip of coffee, wishing she'd replicated Irish whiskey instead. "Admittedly, I'm a poor excuse for a counselor." She could see his eyes glaze … he probably thought she was going to joke her way out of it.

"You know, I've been faced with that question, more than once; never found an easy answer," she continued softly. "The short, and admittedly trite solution is that you learn to let go. You grieve, and then as Seven might say, you adapt."

"Easier said than done," he snorted.

"No kidding," she replied. "It hurts like hell. When I lost … well, I was a mess. I didn't think I'd ever find my way out … didn't even try until I was forced to.

"This time, not that it's been any easier, but I'm finding my way. You will, too. Eventually, you'll be OK."

He looked at her thoughtfully, a bit surprised at her admission. Captains, admirals … they didn't expose their feelings to subordinates … didn't show any sign of weakness. Tom would have learned that at his father's knee.

"This is probably my fault," he finally said, looking down at the table. I was a jerk for forgetting about our weekend. I was going to make it up to her."

"I can't speak to that," she said softly, then paused … how to say this? "We all make mistakes, and hopefully, we learn from them, become a little wiser about ourselves. And sometimes, people, their expectations, their needs, just don't mesh.

"You're a good man, Tom. I have no doubt you'll find someone who will think you're a perfect match."

His smile was almost shy. "Well, thank you for the compliment." She just gave him an affectionate smile.

They were quiet for a moment, and he glanced at the chronometer. "It's getting late. Guess I'd better get some sleep."

She nodded. "It has been a long day."

He nodded in agreement and got up. About halfway to the door, he turned. "Captain … thank you."

She lifted her cup in a salute. "See you in the morning."

Kathryn looked out at the stars for a few moments, then got up to dump her cup in the recycler.

Perhaps she should drop by the holodecks in the evenings, she decided as she walked to the lift. She had a feeling that Sandrine's would be back in business.

Or maybe she should find that dartboard Chakotay talked her into replicating. After a suitable amount of time, perhaps, she could ask Tom to give her a few pointers.

Either way, she certainly knew where she could find a stash of Antarian cider ….


	9. What Have We Become?

_AN: If you haven't kept up with "Picard" the references will be a bit of a shock … _

_Let's assume that Seven would keep in touch with her old captain — a J/P take on the events in the "Stardust City Rag" episode. _

ooo

Tom found Kate on the back deck, arms braced on the railing, as she stared at the fog rolling in from the Bay.

She'd walked out of her office, their son told him, and headed straight for the deck. "I don't know, Dad. The look on her face … I think someone died."

He slipped on a jacket and grabbed a shawl off the couch before he gently pushed the dog away and stepped outside. She said nothing, made no move as he draped the shawl across her shoulders.

"What's happened?" he asked gently.

"I got a message from Seven," she said quietly as she stared, unseeing, at the fog. "A very succinct message: 'Icheb's death has been avenged.'"

Tom couldn't stop his quick intake of breath. Nearly fourteen years now, and Icheb's death … no, murder, was still a deep wound for Kate. In all the years he'd known her, he'd seen her angry, concerned, grief-stricken. But that day, she was distraught.

"_We saved him from the Borg … from his parents. And for what?" she asked then. "To die at the hands of a butch…" She shook her head; couldn't say the word._

"_We saved him so he could have the chance to grow up, to love and be loved," he told her. "To choose work. To make his own decisions. That it was cut short like this is senseless and horrifying. But Kate, at least we gave him his life back."_

"I can't say I'm unhappy to hear it," he said.

She looked at him then, blinking back the unshed tears. "I'm not either." She tentatively laid a hand on his chest. "But the tricky thing about revenge is that it exacts a price from the person who takes it. So what will this take from her? What will _she_ become?"

He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her as she settled against him. "I don't know," he admitted. "I think something has been taken from all of us … Starfleet … the Federation itself. It's pushed us all down some unexpected paths. I'm not sure what any of us has become," he said.

"None of us are who we thought we'd be, are we?"

"_No, we are not," _he thought. Seven was a vigilante; Picard, Kate, even his father had resigned or retired, unable to serve an institution and an alliance they no longer recognized.

"I'd like to think," he finally said, "that we're essentially the same at our core. And at her core, Seven still sees things in black and white. Which I'm sure makes her very good at what she does."

He pulled her more tightly to him and rested his chin atop her head. "I don't know what will happen with her, Kate. But we've always made it clear that we care about her. That won't change."

"No, she agreed, "it won't. She'll always know where to find us."

They fell silent, each lost in their own thoughts. And when their son looked outside a few minutes later, he saw his parents holding each other in the fog ...


	10. Lost in Translation

_AN: Before anyone asks, "Hoosiers" really is the nickname for natives of Indiana. (And we Hoosiers can poke a bit of fun at ourselves ... right?)_

_ooo_

It was near the end of lunch service when Tom and Kathryn walked into the Mess Hall. Lunch didn't look poisonous, so they each grabbed a plate.

Kathryn noted Tuvok's plight and steered them toward his table. Neelix had commandeered the seat next to the commander and was chattering away.

They sat, and Kathryn managed to change the subject, chatting about a recent letter from her mother. Neelix was unexpectedly quiet for a moment, then smiled at Kathryn.

"You know, Captain, your home province has a lovely nickname for its residents."

"Really?" she asked, ignoring the province/state mix-up. "How so?"

"Well, in Talaxian, 'Hoosiers' translates to 'soaring eagles.'"

"Well, that's very nice," she said. "Truthfully, the actual meaning and origin have been lost to history."

Tuvok looked a bit uncomfortable. "What's the matter Tuvok?" Tom asked. "You get a different translation?"

The Vulcan took a breath as his companions looked at him expectantly. "Captain, I regret to inform you that in Vulcan, 'Hoosiers' does not translate to 'soaring eagles.'"

Kathryn cocked an eyebrow. _"This should be good," _she thought. "Out with it, then."

"The closest translation is 'bloated elephants.'" he stated.

Tom spit out his drink, then buried his face in his hands as he howled with laughter. Neelix toppled out of his chair. Kathryn managed to stay upright for a moment, until she, too, dissolved into laughter and sank, face first, to the table. Tuvok deftly moved her plate before she splashed Leola Root surprise on their uniforms.

Tom finally managed to sit up. "Oh, my God," he said wiping his eyes. Neelix managed to get back on his chair. "Well, Commander … that was ..." he managed to choke off another spasm of laughter.

Kathryn finally sat up, wiped her eyes, and cleared her throat. "Tuvok, I certainly hope you don't think of me as an elephant, bloated or otherwise."

"Indeed not," he assured her.

But something in his tone was off. She narrowed her eyes a bit. "There's more to that translation, isn't there?"

"Indeed, there is," he answered.

"Come on now, you _have _to tell us what it is," Tom wheedled.

"This is not the proper venue for such conversation," he replied.

Kathryn raised an eyebrow.

"It seems," he continued reluctantly, "the term might be construed as an insult to the Captain's mother."

Kathryn couldn't contain her grin. "Well, thank you for your consideration," she said, though she certainly _was_ going to tell Mom about this.

"Well, Mr. Vulcan, this has certainly been educational," Neelix said as he got up. "If you'll excuse me, I need to start cleaning up."

"We need to get going, too," Kathryn said, giving Tom an unobtrusive nudge.

They managed to hold their laughter until the turbolift doors closed. She finally had to stop the lift; she didn't want to explain _why _she and Tom were laughing hysterically in each other's arms.

"Oh, my god. That's the best laugh I've had that wasn't caused by Neelix's cooking," Tom breathed.

"No kidding," she agreed as she wiped her eyes again.

He chuckled. "I've just thought of a way to have a little fun with Tuvok."

"Oh?" she asked, instantly suspicious. "And what would _that_ be?"

"Nothing bad. I just intend to insert some nicknames, maybe some 20th-century cultural references into my conversations … see if I can get him to react to a crossed-up translation."

"Well, careful with that," she said as she restarted the turbolift. "Tuvok taught at the Academy, you know. His translator is programmed with the pronunciation and meaning of every obscenity and scatological phrase spoken in the Alpha Quadrant."

She gave him a little nudge as the lift slowed to a halt. "I found out the hard way — during an away mission with him."


End file.
